Daughter of Justice
by Fudgefeather
Summary: You are Redglare, and you have somehow stumbled upon a lusus-less grub- a teal-blood, no less. You cannot bring yourself to kill her, which leaves you only one option: Break the laws you fough so hard to protect, and raise her yourself. Only one thing- you don't know how to care for grubs. Semi-AU
1. Prologue

**AN: For some reason I love creating parental/family fanfics involving the trolls and their Ancestors. This is just the first to actually get written. The entire idea was based on the thought of Redglare with Terezi grub on her head; even then, I never planned to turn it into... Into a FANFIC, you know? ****And then I thought up the first few lines of this and I was lost. I had to do it.**

**Please note I don't completely understand troll customs and such yet. It will take more writing before I get them down perfectly. So if anything is off, I apologize in advance; just give me a friendly note about it and in the future I'll keep it in mind. Just... don't jump all over me about it, I'm kinda new to this fandom. ****Also for reasons Redglare is not currently suffering any sort of disability. Mainly because if I made her blind like Terezi or unable to smell like Latula I'd later forget about it and feel foolish.**

**But anyways enjoy this thing which apparently takes place After Signless until I can write more, okay?**

* * *

Oh.

What.

What in the name of the law is going on here?

Your name is Redglare, and these are the thoughts currently running through your mind as you attempt to look up at the grub that is currently situated on your head and is… Don't tell me she's licking your hair. No. You can't stand for this tomfoolery. You will stop this grub at once and send it back to wherever the hell it belongs.

You begin by reaching up and prying the grub from your head and moving it so as to better examine it and attempt to figure out from whence it came. The grub gives a few frightened squeaks as you flip it upside-down, but that soon turns into what sounds like… Is that the grub version of laughter? You quirk an eyebrow behind your red glasses. Most grubs would still be quaking in their boots at being flipped in such a way, but not this one. It is now waving its legs at you and giving off the very general impression of – dare you even think it – cute.

You're quite sure your cheeks have turned teal in a rather unbidden manner. You hate them for betraying you like this. This grub is absolutely not perfect, cute, adorable, or someone you'd want to be your descendant in any manner. Not at all.

It appears to be a she. Also, by looking at her body and her large eyes, she appears to be a teal blood just as you are.

Well then.

You look around curiously- perhaps her lusus was somewhere nearby and you could quickly return the poor thing- a lusus-less grub, as you well knew, would not survive long. You also knew that any smart lusus would never leave such a young charge unattended for long. What if, heaven forbid, the grub had wandered out in daytime and had been blinded by the sun? You're not sure you want to think of that option. At first glance, however, no mighty lusus appears to claim the poor grub, who is now happily wriggling in your grip and is trying to get you to tickle her stomach. You give a second, hopeful glance… What's that?

…Never mind, that is your own lusus, Pyralsprite. You entertain the thought that the grub might have a dragon lusus, too. It seems somewhat unlikely, however, considering how rare they are. You're lucky you have one, though.

It appears the grub simply does not have a present lusus, which marks her for…

You gulp.

No.

You are not allowing that you happen.

Even with your upbringing as a protector of justice, even though you know every rule calls for this grub to be culled simply for lacking a guardian, you cannot bring yourself to do it. You will not.

Because deep down inside, you care… a bit too much.

Somewhere in your thought process you had brought the grub close to your body, and she was now sleeping peacefully, ignorant of the inner turmoil in your mind. To not turn her in was to turn on the law, on the justice you fought so hard to uphold.

But to turn her in also meant turning on your own heart.

You promised yourself you would never do that again.

That you would never be such a coward ever again.

Silently, one of your hands works its way up to the sideways six and nine hanging from your neck.

And, not for the first time, you wonder if troll laws are really as just as you thought.


	2. Dualscar, the Steamed Lobster

**AN: About three quarters of the way through writing this I had this huge pause where I wrote nothing. In that time my headcanons on Redglare's relationships with both Dualscar and Grand Highblood changed drastically. I tried to edit the Grand Highblood parts to reflect this, but I had so much written for Dualscar that I couldn't bear to scrap it all! Instead, we have a little insight at the end to see that... Maybe the Orphaner isn't always a huge egotistical lowblood-basher.**

**That doesn't mean he still can't be a jerk, though.**

* * *

You bring the grub to your hive and lock its door behind you. Being in the frazzled state you are, now having a grub to care for and what not, you'd hate for any person of a higher blood color than you to decide knocking on a lower blood's door was unnecessary since it was already open. You've had your privacy intruded on like that many times before; more so than you'd care to admit. It's taken locking your door every time that you arrive home to remind them to have a bit of decency in them and at least knock. Although you're certain they'll soon tire of any courtesy of the sort to someone they already know and call "One small step above a lowblood" and simply knock down the door and barge through as if you're some sort of criminal. It's exceedingly trying to your patience.

The grub seems to have woken from its short nap in your arms on the way back, and is making small noises that seem intended to alert you that she's hungry and wants something to eat. Of course. You frown, crease lines appearing in your forehead as you realize you haven't the slightest idea how to feed or care for a grub. You're no lusus, nor the Mothergrub, and your blood is one color above a jade-blood, the ones naturally fitted and selected in caring for the Mothergrub, if you remember correctly. And once they're in the caverns, they aren't allowed to leave. It seems highly unlikely you could find out from one of them how to care for a grub.

You sigh and carry the grub into one of the back rooms. You're not sure what you really use it for, except maybe doodling out plans on how to capture crooks, which isn't usually your style anyway. You'd rather hunt them down and flush them out than plan how you're going to do it. It seems to bring more results that way and more successful cases. Whatever the reason, though, the only things in the room are a chalkboard, the chalk, and a table. You set the grub down on the table.

"Well, I suppose I'm going to have to name you, seeing as you have no lusus to do the job for me," you mutter, the first words you've spoken aloud since you first saw the grub. "Since you're living with me, and I'm your caretaker, it's probably fitting that you have the same last name as me. In short, you're a Pyrope."

The grub blinked up at you with big teal eyes and a grin, which probably had less to do with the name than with the fact that she was being spoken to, even if she didn't understand the words. You grin back. "Now, the first name… has to be six letters; that much is certain. All trolls have six letter first and last names and most grow to have eight letter titles… And, since you have no lusus to grumble at you and those grumblings be translated into a name, I suppose your name should be somewhat fitting to you. Since I'm the one taking care of you, you'll share the same sign as me, Libra. But that's too short for a name, and too close to my wriggler name anyway. No, you need something nicer, much nicer."

The grub was just staring up at you now, and you can't help but think how nice it will be once she's named so you don't keep calling her "the grub" in your head, because that sounds too impersonal. "What about Terezi?"

If Terezi objected, she certainly made no indication of it, merely rearing onto her back four legs and waving her front two in the air, as if searching for something from the troll in front of her. Perhaps it was attention, but it was more probably food, as she still seemed hungry, so you exited the room to go prepare a meal for her. If you could find out what grubs liked to eat.

It was at that moment that a loud knock resounded at the door, and you went over to open it only to find a steaming Dualscar. Not that he wasn't always steaming when you saw him, just not nearly as steaming as he was now. You briefly consider throwing him into a pot and seeing if he would eventually cook himself, but you think better of that idea. It could only lead to severe repercussions on your end. "What is it this time?" you ask, careless of tone. You're as worn down by his visits as anyone, seeing as he'd rather come to you directly than go before the Grand Highblood with his requests and ranting. Perhaps because he was scared of the Grand Highblood, and perhaps because, and you knew this well enough from a previous instance, he could easily call you out here and verbally abuse you and your work without the Grand Highblood towering over him and threatening to tear him to shreds with his bare hands if he didn't shut up about the blood color of his best legislacerator being inferior and making her not as good in hunting Dualscar's prey for him. You distinctly remember edging into a corner that day and holding back tears; the words had hurt your dignity and hard-earned pride immensely, and the fight that erupted between the two of them frightened you, knowing full well what would happen if you got in between them during the fight. Grand Highblood already terrified you, and none of his compliments meant anything to you, not anymore. Since then, Dualscar has only come to update you at your own hive, and his presence and visits rattle you almost as much as the thought of a rope around your neck. Almost.

Dualscar merely snorts at the question you ask him. "I should think that someone of your rank might want to show some respect to those in higher cases, lest you watch your fall from disgrace and land yourself a place among lowbloods, where your kind belong."

"I hate to tell you then, _sir_, but I'm afraid we are the same species and thus 'my kind', if we are referring to trolls as a whole, is the same as 'your kind'."

Dualscar looks at you like he wants to shoot you dead right there, but he thinks better of it. You know it's because he fears the repercussions upon himself if the Grand Highblood's "favorite little pet" (as Highblood himself had even described you once, to your general horror) were found dead by his hand. "Well, since you obviously know so much and are so smart and talented, I suppose you've come home because you've captured her then?"

By her, you know full well that he means Mindfang, his former kismesis. As far as you can tell, he had started feeling red for her rather than black, but she flipped him off, captured one of his ships full of slaves, and started a love affair with one of them. Making sure that Dualscar knew. If he hadn't convinced you she had committed other crimes as well, you might have applauded her. Bravo. Finally someone who showed Dualscar who's boss, and it isn't him. "No, I haven't. In spite of numerous tip-offs and several leads, any time I get anywhere, she's already gone, and always leaves something to mock me, like she knows I'm following her. It's rather annoying, really, but I'm sure I'll catch her."

Dualscar snorted. "You always say that, but you never deliver on it. I'm starting to think you're not as great as everyone says."

Actually, no, you think privately, he never thought that at all. "If you were so great, why aren't you out there now, searching for a lead or trying to capture her?"

The question throws you off guard, and you start, trying to answer it. "Do you know how much energy that takes? How much that drains me, physically and mentally? I practically starve myself when I'm on case, and if you asked me the meaning of 'rest', I couldn't tell you to save my life! For every week I'm out on case, I need at least a day to recover, and even that is a bare minimum to keep me going and not send me falling flat on my face from starvation and sleep-deprivation!"

Dualscar was totally unimpressed. "Whatever. Just so long as you catch her, and soon. That slave was very valuable, and I'd hate to lose her completely. Who knows what trouble she'd cause, if her actions could start another… rebellion. Perhaps you know who I'm talking about, then."

No, actually, you don't- oh. _Oh._

_Tortured to death and shot by an arrow._

_Sentenced to death but let go by the executioner._

_Sent to work as a Helmsman on the Empress's personal ship._

_Sold as a slave._

Not only do you know who it is, but a plan is forming in your mind as to how to carry it out, how to get you and your new little charge to safety, a way to find out how to care for grubs and a haven for you were you don't have to worry about Dualscar because there's someone out on the seas who's too wily for even the best to catch –

There was a thud from one of your back rooms, and Dualscar is instantly on his feet. "What was that?" he asked, his face contorting. You shrug, trying to remain nonchalant, even though your heart is beating faster than it should be. Terezi must have knocked something over. If Dualscar sees the grub, it would be an end to both you and her. "I don't know, probably nothing important. Must've put something slightly off balance, and it just didn't fall until now."

Dualscar narrows his eyes at you, obviously not buying the lie. "Well, perhaps we'd better check it out, in case it's valuable."

You know he doesn't buy it, then, because if he had, he wouldn't care for the object's value because it belonged to you and nothing you owned could possibly be worth that much to him. You follow him to the back room, trying not to shake or display any visible signs of worry to him. His head poked in the door, and the pit of your stomach dropped in worry…

"Chalk," he said after a moment, pointing at the floor. Sure enough, an entire package of chalk was now on the ground, where you were certain no chalk had been before. "Nothing to worry about after all."

Somehow, he almost sounds relieved, and the smile he gives you is almost out of character for him. He starts back down the hallway, forcing you to scurry out of the way and press yourself against a wall to avoid him. "Well, I must be going," he said, still giving you a smile, and you start to sweat. The smile seemed a bit knowing now, and if he said anything… But then you see what looks like understanding, and that only frightens you more. Dualscar as a scary, egotistical supervisor seemed almost easier to deal with than this new Dualscar, who no longer seemed to be expressly calling you out over blood, and was even a bit friendly. Had this change really all come from him seeing the chalk? Or had he… You can't imagine that he had.

He was halfway out the door when he turned and, looking thoughtful, he said, "Oh, and Redglare, if you're really thinking about caring for a meowbeast, an expert breeder once told me that they like milk. I could be wrong, though."

And with that, he starts strutting away, leaving you surprised. Meowbeast? What meowbeast? You had never said anything about getting a meowbeast-

Oh.

He had seen, then.

And not only had he seen, but he had understood, and had even given you a tip as to how to raise the grub, without seeming to expect anything from you in return.

You are left as a very puzzled legislacerator.


End file.
